Trials
by 20BlueRoses
Summary: When Ethan hears of some breakthrough research into Huntington's Disease, he's desperate to get involved. It's his one chance to change fate, to escape the future he dreads. But Cal worries his little brother is risking everything on a futile mission to find a cure.
1. Chapter 1

Hi everyone. It's been a while but here's my newest story. I've been working on this for quite some time but it's been a slow process (real life/writers block) so I'm only as far as chapter three. I'm hoping I'll speed up writing once this is published so I'll aim for semi-regular updates.

I've done plenty of research for this but some of it is beyond my understanding, so apologies if I get some of the details wrong. I once heard that all you need to do is write convincingly, but I'm sure anyone with medical knowledge will be able to spot any mistakes. I promise I'll always research but can't promise I'll always get it right.

I really hope you enjoy the opening to this and would love to read any feedback.

x

* * *

1.

Cal shuffles on his plastic chair. He strains his neck to pointedly check the clock on the wall behind him. He waits for the minute hand to shudder into its new position and then tuts as loudly as he can manage.

"Right, that's it," he says. He doesn't bother to disguise the scowl on his face as he turns back to face his brother. "Ten minutes late. Complete farce. I'm going to have a word with reception, see what's behind this hold up."

Before he can stand, Ethan's hand comes firmly onto his wrist.

"You are absolutely not," he says.

"You'd think there'd be some benefits for being _one of their own_."

"But, Caleb," Ethan says. "I'm not here as a doctor, I'm here as a patient, same as everyone else."

Ethan releases his grip but Cal no longer feels the need to jump to his feet and commandeer an unsuspecting receptionist. "You still work in the same building," he mutters.

Ethan turns to face him, his brows furrowed so deeply that they're well hidden behind the thick rims of his glasses. "If you'd rather not be here then don't feel obliged."

"I'm staying, Ethan, all right."

Cal folds his arms and slumps against the hard back of the chair. He knows he resembles a sulky child but couldn't care less. He doesn't want to be here, his brother got that much right.

* * *

 _Truthfully, Cal wouldn't have thought twice about the letter had it not been for the speed Ethan jumped up from the table and shoved it in the back pocket of his corduroy trousers._

 _Their post rarely involved anything other than bills but Cal was sure that this wasn't one. For a start, his brother never had any problem with showing him a bill, usually by waving it in front of his face and demanding, in a high pitched voice, to know why they were still getting reminders._

" _Love letter?" Cal had asked._

 _Ethan blushed at the mention alone. "It's none of your business."_

" _So who's the unlucky lady then?"_

" _No-one."_

" _Come on, let's have a look. Let's face it, you're going to need help comprising the response."_

 _Cal took a step closer to his brother and snorted in amusement as Ethan jumped backwards and clamped his hands on the trouser pocket where the letter lay._

" _Caleb, stop it," Ethan berated. "It's not a love letter. It's private."_

" _Yeah, but I'm your brother."_

 _He shook his head as if he'd never heard of the concept. "What's that got to do with anything?"_

" _Private_ _doesn't apply!"_

" _It most definitely does."_

" _So what do you call walking in on me the other day?"_

 _Ethan shuddered. "Foolish naivety that you'd be considerate enough to move somewhere more appropriate than the lounge."_

" _Lack of boundaries, Nibbles. We're brothers! So stop being boring and share the gossip."_

" _There is no gossip, Caleb. Some of us actually take life seriously."_

 _Cal faltered. He'd never truly believed it was a love letter Ethan was hiding but the opportunity to tease him was too great a one to miss. Yet now, a niggling concern made the smile fall from his lips. "Erm, everything is okay," he said hesitantly, "isn't it?"_

" _Of course it isn't," Ethan had replied. "You're making me late for work."_

* * *

"Ethan Hardy?" a voice calls

Cal snaps out of his daydream and jumps to his feet ahead of his brother. He turns and sees Ethan still sitting, polishing his glasses on the edge of a faded handkerchief. Once, he might have mocked his brother for smartening himself up in preparation to meet the doctor, but today he sees hesitation and takes his chance.

"It's not too late to change your mind, you know," he says softly.

"What?" It's almost a bark. "No," Ethan says, "no. I want to do this. I'm certain."

"Are you?"

Ethan almost pokes himself in the eye with the ferocity he replaces his glasses. "It's my life, Caleb!"

The treatment room is smaller than Cal had expected; a bed in the centre and just one chair, evidently for the doctor. He makes a point of sitting on the bed, making it known that the lack of furniture can't force him away. His eyes flicker to the only adornment on the walls, four certificates, perfectly aligned, expressing commendations for the doctor's work within medical research.

The doctor must be pushing sixty, with thinning grey hair and glasses so thick they put Ethan's to shame. "I'm Doctor Nowak," he says. He looks between them. "Which one of you is Ethan?"

"I am."

"I'm his brother," Cal says. "Older brother."

The doctor tilts his head, a spark of interest pulsing through him. "Brother, hmm?"

"I don't have the gene," Cal says bluntly. "Sorry to disappoint you."

"Cal!" Ethan fixes him with a familiar warning glare. That look has never done much to quash Cal, but especially not now, not today. "I'm sorry," Ethan says to the doctor. "This has been a difficult decision for us to make."

Cal stifles the urge to scoff at Ethan's use of 'us'. It had been as far from a joint decision as he could imagine. He knew he had no right to even try, but since his brother had finally admitted his intentions, he'd done all he could to try to talk him out of it.

The doctor shrugs away his rudeness but Cal's not fooled. The apparent generosity in ignoring his comment was for no-one's benefit but Ethan's. Of course the doctor wants his patient on side. The more drugs he can pump into Ethan's body that way.

"I appreciate you being here," the doctor says with a stock smile.

"The more test subjects the better, right?" Cal snaps.

The doctor's placidity doesn't falter. "I can't dispute that. Academically speaking, we need enough willing participants to make this trial valid. But it's not just about numbers and it's certainly not just about treating the gene. It's about the people behind the gene. The people we could be helping today and in years to come." He straightens his back. "I'm sure I don't need to describe the difference this could make in people's lives if we successfully developed a cure for Huntington's?"

Cal feels heat rush to his head at the doctor's patronising words. Of course he knows the benefits from eradicating Huntington's. It ruined his mum's life and is set to destroy his brother's. But as a doctor, he's had years of experience of understanding that some diseases don't have a cure. He knows that when the time comes for Ethan he will require drugs to ease the depression and sedate the tremors in his limbs but that could be ten or fifteen years away. This doctor is determined to turn his brother into a patient years before he has to be one, and Ethan has clung on to the tiny bit of hope he has left.

"But you don't know that you're curing Huntington's, do you?" Cal says. "You don't even know _which_ potential side effects the drug may cause."

"I'm afraid will this kind of research there are no guarantees."

"So it's not implausible that you could make him ill before his condition does?"

"It's highly unlikely. Prior tests have shown nothing but favourable results."

Cal scoffs. "On mice."

He sees the doctor flinch and can tell it hurts him to hear someone suggest he only researched on mice. He expects the doctor to explain about the other successes he's had, about the monkeys he's worked on, the whole range of rodents. He wants the doctor to elaborate, just so he can point out the differences between his brother and random animal test subjects.

But the doctor just nods. "We only progress onto humans when we're positive the risk is as minimal as it can be."

Ethan clears his throat. "We've talked about this, Cal. It's a risk I'm willing to take."

"You can't go back, Ethan. If things go wrong, then you're stuck with the consequences."

"I'm already stuck with a degenerative disease." His lip quivers. "It can't get much worse."

Cal opens his mouth to accuse the doctor of prying on vulnerable people with nothing to lose but the expression on his little brother's face makes him hesitate. Ethan looks like he's about to have his last bit of hope stripped away from him and Cal can't be the one responsible for that. He folds his arms across his chest. "Fine. Do what you want," he says. "It _is_ me you're trying to imitate, after all."

Ethan doesn't smile but he squeezes Cal's knee before turning back to the doctor. "Sorry, please continue."

"Okay." The doctor thrusts his hands together with a clap. "Well. The object of this meeting is to go over the final details before your first injection tomorrow but please use it as an opportunity to ask any questions you may have." He leaves the slightest of pauses before continuing. "The injections will be administered intrathecally – that means into the spinal canal."

"We know what it means," Cal interjects. "We're both doctors."

"Doctors?" He repeats.

Cal nods smugly. He can't help but feel that he's got one up on the Doctor Nowak, whose high pitched tone and slight grimace suggest he'd much rather have novices in front of him.

"My apologies," he continues. "I didn't know." He shuffles in his chair so that he's solely facing Ethan rather than the small gap between the brothers. "As with all intrathecal injections possible side effects include slight soreness, headaches, drowsiness, nausea and stiffness of muscles, although there is no guarantee you'll experience any. I also have to mention the more severe risks such as nerve damage or relinquished bowel control, but I'm sure you know that these are incredibly rare." He waits until Ethan acknowledges the statement with a slight bow of his head. "The injections are to be administered on a four weekly basis over the course of thirteen weeks. During this period and the fifty days following, you will be required to attend various appointments for monitoring purposes. I have the schedule here." He retrieves a document from the top of his folder and hands it to Ethan. "These include general fitness and cognitive function examinations as well as blood tests and ECGs."

Cal leans towards his brother so that he can read the piece of paper he was given. It's a long list of dates, all followed by a few words confirming which procedure occurs on that day and sounds far more invasive than Cal had imagined.

"The injection will contain one of five things. The first of these is a placebo drug; the other four are varying dosages of IONIS HTTRx, the drug that we hope will one day cure Huntington's. The treatment plan you will be on has been selected randomly and neither you nor I will know which until after your trial has concluded."

"Right," Ethan says, shakily.

"Is there anything you wish to ask?"

"Um, I don't think so."

"Actually, yes," Cal says. "Let me get this straight. One of the doses is a placebo. So you could put him through all of those injections and tests and he may not even have the _possibility_ of being cured?"

"I'm afraid so," the doctor says. "I can understand your concerns and frankly I'd much rather all my patients had a chance of success but the trial would not be allowed to proceed without a placebo group."

"Ethan, seriously?"

"I thought you knew?"

Cal runs a hand over the back of his head. "Oh, it just gets better!"

"Um," Ethan says. "Wouldn't you would rather I were in the placebo group?"

"What?"

"Well, you have been particularly against this."

"Not against the cure! Look, Ethan, this guy can't even give you the odds of success and you're willing to put yourself through months of treatment that could go badly wrong."

"I don't expect you to understand."

Cal frowns at him but Ethan is refusing to meet his eyes. "This isn't you," Cal offers, as his last attempt to change his brother's mind. "You're the sensible one. You don't take risks."

"It was time to change," Ethan says. "It would be nice if you would do the same and actually support me for once."

Cal swallows a lump of guilt. He knows he's been a useless brother on numerous occasions but this isn't one of them. For once, he's not contradicting his brother to be difficult or to wind him up but out of concern. He wishes Ethan wouldn't invalidate his points just because of their turbulent past.

He's still searching for words when the noise of Doctor Nowak's chair scraping along the floor makes him wince.

"So," the doctor says with an air of triumph. "Tomorrow's the day! Are we still on?"

Cal holds his breath and yearns for his brother to say no.

"Absolutely," Ethan replies.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you all so much :) hope this chapter doesn't let you down as I enjoyed writing it. Please leave a review to let me know what you think._

 **Bonnie Sveen Fan** \- Thanks for reviewing. I'm glad you think the idea is interesting as it's been playing on my mind for some time now.

 **L** \- That's so sweet to say you love my other stories too, I really appreciate your review. I'm going to update as regularly as I can, but annoying things like work keep getting in my way!

 **Panicatcasualty123** \- Thank you for your review and your kind comments about my writing. Hope you enjoy this chapter too.

 **CBloom2** \- Last weeks episode was one of the things that spurred me on to finally post this as I didn't want to contradict any potential story-lines that may take place on the show. On a side note, how lovely was Ethan in that episode? I want one! Thank you for reviewing, I'm glad you enjoyed it.

 **Teeloganroryflan** \- Thank you for reviewing, I'm really pleased that you enjoyed it.

 **Charlotte** \- Thank you so much, hope I didn't keep you waiting too long for an update!

 **sweet-as-honey** \- I'm glad you thought it was believable as sometimes it can be hard to keep them in character when the situation is an unusual one. I'm aiming for a bit of ambiguity in terms of which brother is in the right, as I can see both perspectives too, so I'm pleased that worked. Thank you for reviewing and I hope you continue to enjoy this.

* * *

2.

 _The letter had arrived amid a flurry of irrelevant post; pizza menus, flyers for cleaning services and a subscription magazine for Cal that Ethan intended to cancel next time his brother owed him money. From the casual method of its delivery, Ethan had neglected to notice the indicative symbol on the envelope and tore it open with such indifference that he managed a spoonful of cereal at the same time._

 _The spoon landed back in the bowl with a clatter. Ethan held his breath as his eyes scanned over the printed text. He shook his head. He removed his glasses and polished them on his handkerchief, sure that he wasn't seeing clearly. But when he returned them to his face, the letter still read the same. He had been accepted. He was a participant in the trial. They were going to try and cure his Huntington's. He knew he should be smiling and cheering but could manage nothing more than a quiet 'right' as he tried to digest the news._

 _He remained in such deep thought that when Cal entered the room, he jumped violently. Out of instinct, he panicked, and in the few seconds while Cal rubbed sleep from his eyes he tried to hide the letter. But it was typical of his current run of bad luck that Cal managed a breakthrough moment of observance in his early morning haze and asked what it was._

 _Ethan needed time to compose a coherent way of breaking the news and so feigned annoyance at his brother's inquisitiveness. Medical advances were something outsiders talked about, something people said when there was nothing else to say. It was a platitude that no-one truly believed. Cal, even during his more desperate moments of reassurance, hadn't resigned to suggesting there may be a cure._

 _Except now there was. Or at least there might be. And Ethan, confirmation scrunched in the back pocket of his trousers, had no idea how to put it into words._

* * *

Ethan startles as Cal crashes through the door of the treatment room. He's still in his scrubs, his stethoscope barely balancing around his neck. His breaths fall heavily and Ethan suspects he's run all the way from the E.D, several staircases below. There, Cal's noisy entrance would have been concealed by the throng of desperate patients and overworked staff.

Ethan waits for the newest round of critique from his brother, but instead Cal stands frozen, staring into the room as if he's never seen a hospital before. When the silence prevails, Ethan turns back to the consent forms. He scrawls his signature for the fourth and final time and hands it to Doctor Nowak.

"I'll leave you to get ready," the doctor says with a nod towards the gown at the head end of the bed.

As soon as it's just the two of them in the room, Cal swings to face him, his face a scowl. "Ethan-"

"You can't talk me out of this."

"That's not why I'm here." Cal takes a step closer, shaking his head. "I can't believe you," he says, "sneaking up here without telling me they'd brought it forwards an hour."

"Shouldn't you be at work?"

"It's almost as if you didn't want me to come!"

Ethan sighs. "The last thing I need today, Caleb, is you prattling on about the risks."

Cal's gaze falls to the floor. "It's not like you've been listening to me."

"Well your advice tends to lead me into trouble," Ethan says. He feels his bottom lip wobble but he manages a weak smile just before Cal looks at him. He watches the anger fades from his brother's face as he registers the effort to lighten the conversation.

"Look, you idiot," Cal says in a softer tone. "I may not completely agree with this but I still want to be here. Please don't shut me out."

Ethan gives the minutest of nods. He turns to pick up the gown in order to hide his face, not willing to chance Cal guessing his thoughts. Everything would feel so much easier if he allowed himself to lean on his brother and if it wasn't for their blemished past then he's sure he would have done. But he's learnt to expect disappointment and he's determined not to put himself in the position that he would fall apart completely should Cal choose to leave.

He holds the gown out in front of him. It looks huge. His fingers pick at the top button on his shirt. "Caleb."

"What?" Cal asks eagerly.

"Turn around."

Ethan sees his brother roll his eyes before he turns. He continues to unbutton his shirt but his hands are clumsy and the buttons do not slip through the holes as easily as they should. He sighs. He knows nerves are the cause of the shaking in his hand today and reminds himself that the nerves are worth it to avoid much more persistent tremors over time.

"I know I'm at risk of getting punched," Cal says, "but I have to ask one last time. Are you sure?"

Ethan slides his shirt from his shoulders and dumps it on the bed behind him. "No," he says quietly. "But I couldn't live through the symptoms knowing I didn't even try."

Cal's silent for a minute but Ethan sees his shoulders tense and knows that his brother is deep in thought. He doesn't feel as though he has anything further to add, so uses the break in conversation to unfasten his belt and slide his trousers down his legs. Although he feels exposed just in his boxers, the gown remains in his hand. Once it's on, there's no denying he will be a patient.

"Do you want me to stay with you?" Cal says eventually.

Ethan sags with relief. As part of his mental preparation ahead of the treatment, he's been anticipating going through it alone. On several occasions he's wished his big brother would be there with him but refused to ask, fearing a rejection. He's considered it practice for the future, when he may be facing much worse by himself.

But the second Cal offered to stay, any strength Ethan had mustered seemed to dissolve. He contemplates hugging his brother, thanking him, begging him never to leave. But there's been a barrier between them for too long and the sharing of emotions doesn't come easily. There's no way Cal can know what he's thinking.

"Okay," Ethan manages, hoping he sounds nonchalant. "If you want."

"Okay," Cal echoes. "Any excuse to skive."

Ethan forces a chuckle, more for his brother's sake than his own. He takes a deep breath and guides his hands through the loose armholes of the gown. It's difficult to knot the ties behind his own back and so secures it just enough to protect his dignity, knowing the doctor will need the gown undone anyway in order to place the injection into his back. "I'm ready," he tells his brother.

Cal sniffs and turns slowly.

Ethan scrutinises his brother's face. Cal's never been as good as him at hiding his emotions. Ethan registers the muscle working in his brother's jaw and how, even though it looks like Cal is staring directly at him, his focus is on Ethan's forehead rather than his eyes. Gosh, he thinks, he's just as scared as I am. He's hit with a sudden surge of nausea and turns away, clamping his hand over his mouth.

Cal's by his side in an instant, his fingers wrapping around the top of Ethan's arm. "You alright?"

"Mmm," Ethan murmurs. He's not ready to open his mouth yet, just in case.

"I just-" Cal says. His grip on Ethan tightens. "You don't look good, bro. I'm sure they can… postpone or something, if you want."

Ethan manages to prize his hand away from his mouth. He turns to Cal and waits for his brother to finally look him fully in the eyes. "I'm fine. It's going to be today. It has to be." He takes a deep breath. "Could you- could you tell the doctor I'm ready?"

Cal's mouth is a thin, tight line as he nods.

When Doctor Nowak returns he's accompanied by a nurse that Ethan recognises but does not know by name. She introduces herself as Nurse Walsh and smiles at him with her mouth but not her eyes.

"If you could pop up on the bed," she says. "On your side please, knees bent."

Ethan awkwardly shuffles onto the bed and tries to follow the instructions. He's never been comfortable being the centre of attention and having three pairs of eyes bearing into him makes him conscious of every movement.

"Just tuck your knees up a little more," the nurse continues. "That's it, right into your chest."

The doctor and nurse position themselves behind him, so all Ethan can see is his brother's legs directly in front of him. He cranes his head. Cal's fists are balled together in front of his mouth and Ethan can see he's frowning at the doctor. He hopes Cal manages to keep his opinions to himself or else he chances being removed from the room.

"Okay Ethan," Doctor Nowak says as he begins to untie the back of his gown. "First we're going to administer a local anaesthetic. You'll feel a slight scratch."

Despite his medical knowledge, Ethan tenses in apprehension and the jab in his lower back is much sharper that it might have been. He hisses.

"Try to relax," the nurse tells him.

Ethan takes a deep breath, in through his nose, out through his mouth. The anaesthetic's starting to work already. His limbs feel like they've gained a tonne. Experimentally, he tries to flex his wrist but the joint remains stiff, as if it's glued to the bed. He can no longer feel the hard mattress beneath him. He's floating, yet sinking at the same time. He tries to take another calculated breath but breathes in through his mouth by mistake and ends up releasing a loud and shaky gasp.

Cal's face glides into view. Ethan watches his brother manoeuvre so that he's kneeling on the floor and they're near enough level with each other. His lips are parted slightly, as if he's about to speak.

"I'm okay," Ethan says, before his brother can ask.

Cal gives a single nod. "Right." He moves swiftly and places his hand on top of Ethan's.

Although Ethan cannot feel the weight of his brother's hand on his, it's still strange. They've not held hands since children, at either mother's insistence, and it's the last thing he would have expected Cal to do. He sees a flush of embarrassment cross Cal's face and wishes his muscles were not so numb he can't give his brother's hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Can you feel that?" the doctor says suddenly.

Ethan's about to ask what, when he realises the stupidity of that question. "Um, no," he replies.

"And this?"

"No."

"Can you prepare the syringe?" the doctor says to the nurse. "Ethan, we're just about ready. You might feel a bit of pressure on your back but this won't hurt at all."

At first Ethan feels nothing but after a few seconds he begins to feel as if something is pushing against the curve of his spine. He wants to look over his shoulder to see what's happening but knows that it's imperative he doesn't move and that his muscles are frozen to prevent him from even trying. Instead, he lets his gaze meet his brother's.

Cal doesn't attempt a smile. "What can you feel?" he asks.

"Not much," Ethan says.

"Good." Cal's eyes flutter shut for a second and when they open there's a new determination within them. "So," he continues, "seeing as Beauchamp's about to ball me out, the least you can do is help me invent a good excuse for where I've been."

The abrupt change of subject surprises Ethan but when the pressure in his back increases, he's glad of a distraction. "I'm sure the general assumption will be that you're with a woman."

"Yeah," Cal says, dreamily "A hot blonde."

"Well I'm blonde, but-"

"Yeah. Not hot. And not female. And also my brother."

Ethan attempts a laugh but it sounds strangled. He had assumed the injection would have been administered by now but doesn't want to sound weak by asking how much longer it will take.

"And anyway," Cal continues, "that's not going to get me out of trouble."

"Just tell her- tell her you were with someone who needed you."

"Because she'll believe that!"

"People can surprise you sometimes," Ethan said.

Cal stares at him, crease lines rippling across his forehead as he frowns. "Ethan-"

"Right," the doctor announces, sounding triumphant. "That's all finished. Nurse, if you'd be so kind as to sort the dressing."

The doctor comes to stand on his side of the bed, but Ethan struggles to look away from his brother, wondering what he'd been about to say.

"Congratulations, Ethan," the doctor beams. "The trial has officially commenced. I'll leave you in the capable hands of Nurse Walsh and we'll meet again a week today for the first session of monitoring."

Ethan manages a muttered thanks and waits patiently as the nurse completes the dressing. She drapes a blanket over him and tells him to rest for as long as he needs for the anaesthetic to wear off. She leaves the room with another half-hearted smile.

"So what were you going to say?" Ethan asks his brother.

Cal runs a hand over his head as he climbs to his feet. "Nothing," he replies. "You'll be okay now, yeah? I'd better get back to work."


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks for all the kind comments, it means so much to me. I was pleased with how that last chapter turned out so hope this one is okay too. Ethan fans, bear with me - chapter 4 is all about him. Writing has been slow the last few days but hopefully a few reviews will spur me on ;) Seriously, I really do appreciate any comments or feedback.

 **casslourocks:** Thank you so much for your comments on my writing. That's what I was aiming for with the detail so I'm really pleased you picked up on that. It would have been so easy to gloss over the medical stuff as I'm not confident at all with that, but I felt not including it wouldn't do the intensity of the treatment justice. Hope you enjoy this part too.

 **Bonnie Sveen Fan:** I'm glad you liked the little bit of humour in there as I find that so hard to write. Sad stuff comes much easier to me for some reason! Thank you for reviewing.

 **Beccs2202:** Thanks for reviewing. I wanted to try to keep it realistic as we're often teased with their inability to have deep and meaningful conversations. I'm pleased you're finding it interesting.

 **Teeloganroryflan:** Thanks for your review. Ethan is okay for now, but it may not last!

 **L:** It means a lot that you were excited for an update. Hope you enjoy this one too. Thanks for your lovely review.

 **sweeet-as-honey:** Thank you so much. I love that you picked those moments out as I was trying to get across their awkwardness in communicating meaningfully. Their hearts are in the right place (at the moment anyway) but it's not easy to break habits of a lifetime and actually say what they think. I'm really pleased you're enjoying this.

* * *

3.

Cal unearths a three day old newspaper from beneath a pile of glossy magazines and idly flicks through the sport pages, scanning over stories he'd already heard on the staff room radio. He thinks about his colleagues, several floors below him in the ED, and wonders exactly how much they'll rib him if they see him lingering around his place of work when he should be at home, sleeping off a hangover.

The hangover is unanticipated and Cal decides that makes it all the more painful. He tries to recall the events of the night before but after Max and Jez goading him into a five-shot challenge, it becomes a blur. He wishes he'd known his presence at Ethan's examination would be forbidden so that he could have stayed in bed.

Cal recalls the small smile his brother gave him after he accepted that there was no facility for guests and feels a twitch of amusement at Ethan's gratitude. If Ethan's gullible enough to assume his lack of response was because he's a good big brother, then Cal has no intention of correcting him. Truthfully, he'd been overwhelmed by a burst of hungover nausea and by the time he'd felt well enough to speak, Ethan had already been marched away. He tells himself that waiting for his brother to finish is a good enough compromise.

Cal's head hurts now and the small print within the newspaper is doing nothing to ease it. He opts for a women's fashion magazine instead, hoping there's a lingerie section. He opens the magazine at a random place and slumps against the back of the chair, not bothering to disguise a yawn. He considers forgoing the pictures of pretty models in favour of a short nap. But before he has chance to try, the peace is disturbed by the sound of a woman shouting. The doors to the waiting room crashes open. Cal chucks the magazine back onto the table, just in case the woman has enough faculties to notice what he's looking at.

He sits up straighter as he digests the newcomer's appearance. She's younger than Ethan, he decides, although it could be that her leather backpack makes her look deceptively youthful. Her delicately pale skin is flushed and her blonde hair is ruffled from the phone jammed against her ear.

"You don't care about me at all!" she accuses of whoever is at the other end of the phone. "No, I've had enough. You don't get a say any more."

Cal hastily looks away and pulls out his own phone as way of distraction. He taps out a quick text to Max to see if his mate can shed any light on what they got up to on their night out.

"You can't stop me, Mum. I'm at the hospital now." She unleashes a growl of frustration. "No, I'm not lying!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Cal notices the girl stop in front of him.

"Excuse me," she says, "sorry. Can you just tell _her_ that I'm at the hospital." She holds out the phone to him expectantly.

He takes the phone but keeps it in his palm and raises his eyebrows, making it clear he's deciding whether to conform.

"Please!"

He lifts the mobile to his ear slowly, all the while maintaining eye contact with girl. Although he can't decipher the words, he can hear another woman ranting down the phone. He clears his throat and waits for a break in the tirade. "She's at the hospital," he recites at the first opportunity and hands the phone back.

The girl gives him a look which makes it clear he didn't perform his designated task to the standard she expects. She throws herself onto another plastic chair, just two seats down from him and returns to the conversation.

Cal's own phone buzzes. He snorts with amusement at Max's reply: _not a clue_ , and fires a one word response: _dying_. He slides his phone back into his jean pocket and rolls his head to the side making it as obvious as he can that he is watching the girl. Her appearance makes him feel much better about failing to locate the lingerie page in the magazine. The anger that exudes from her only fuels his attraction.

"Just some man," she is saying. "Look, I've told you. I'm doing this." She pauses, holds the phone away from her ear and winces. "I'm not stupid, Mum," she suddenly barks into the receiver. "You want me to be ill, don't you? Because if _I_ don't need you, nobody will."

Cal can't help but pull a face at the brutal turn in the conversation. He's no stranger to family arguments, but has less experience in listening to one than in participating. He wonders if his own cheeks turn as red as hers when he and Ethan are amid one of their worst fights.

"I can say that because it's true!" the girl continues. "You love having this hold over me. Well once I'm better you can forget it. I'm gone." She wedges the phone between her cheek and her shoulder and fishes through her backpack. "Of course it's going to work," she says. Her search of her bag becomes more desperate and she groans as she can't find what she's looking for. "Got a cigarette?"

Cal's so engrossed, it takes him a few moments to realise she's speaking to him. His fingers toy with the half squashed packet in his pocket. He knows there's just one cigarette in there, one which he was saving for after the worst of his hangover has passed.

"Is it that difficult for you to be happy for me?" she says. "Oh really."

Cal relents and draws the remaining cigarette from its packet. Their fingers brush as she takes it from him and he can't help but wonder if she did so on purpose.

"Bye, Mum." She ends up the call and drops the phone into her bag in one swift movement and then jumps to her feet, Cal's cigarette poised between two fingers. "Can't last any longer," she says. "If they call my name, tell them I'll be back in five."

"Right," Cal says. "There's just one problem with that."

"What? Doctors keep _me_ waiting all the time!"

Cal laughs. "I meant I wouldn't _know_ if they called your name. You're yet to introduce yourself."

"Oh," she says. She looks a little sheepish as she tucks her hair behind her ear. "Rosie. Rosie Townsend."

"I'm Cal." He's pleased when she returns his smile. He waits just long enough for her to be almost out the door before speaking. "That was my last cigarette, you know."

She turns to face him, eyes wide. "Please don't tell me you want it back,"

"Well…" he says, drawing out the word to make her think he's deliberating. "It's a massive sacrifice. But it sounds as if you need it more than me."

He watches Rosie shuffle from one foot to the other as she looks him up and down, presumably deciding how honest to make her response.

"She's trying to talk me out of the treatment," she suddenly blurts. "Can you believe it?!"

"Oh, um," Cal replies, aware that he sounds more like Ethan than himself.

"Bet no-one did that to you!"

"Actually, it's my brother, who-"

"What kind of relative wants to prevent someone from getting better?"

Cal looks away and rubs at his hand, trying to fade the remains of a stamp from wherever they ended up last night. "Dunno," he says as non-committedly as he can manage. "That cigarette. Don't suppose you'd mind sharing?"

* * *

 _It had been Ethan's fault really. If he'd been that desperate for Cal not to find the letter, he should have shredded it or set it on fire. Hiding it in the not-so-secret box under his bed was practically an invitation for Cal to go rummaging._

 _In his brother's defence, Ethan had at least been cautious enough not to leave it on the top of the pile. That meant Cal had needed to search through a heap of certificates, photographs which included both mums but no dad and a faded letter from a girl Cal knew nothing about. He had put the last find to the side, intending to rile his brother about it later, but the discovery of the letter shattered any amusement._

 _He thought he was seeing things at first. He even considered that someone was playing a cruel joke on Ethan. But after the fourth read of the letter, it finally sunk in. He collapsed onto Ethan's immaculately made bed, letter clutched in one hand, secret shoebox still open on the floor, and rested his head in his arms._

 _His brother wanted to be involved in a research trial. An experiment. He was planning to allow some single-minded doctor to pump drugs into his body before they were confirmed to be safe. It was as if Ethan had forgotten all about that time they treated the victims of a drugs trial gone wrong, when half the subjects had come down with a virus so severe that one of them had almost died._

 _But Cal had been there to save the day then, and he would again now. He had to make Ethan see sense. He had to destroy his little brother all over again by telling him a cure wasn't possible, that it was just claim to entice vulnerable people. Ethan would hate him for it, but when didn't he? Cal could take an argument if it meant preserving Ethan's wellbeing._

 _He just hadn't expected the argument would have begun so soon._

" _What are you doing in my room?"_

 _Cal quickly recovered from the shock of seeing Ethan. He stood up and thrust the letter against his brother's chest. "Are you insane?"_

" _Caleb!" Ethan spluttered. "That's private!"_

" _I have the right to know before you damage your body."_

" _Before I- what?" Ethan retrieved the letter and folded it carefully in two. "Cal, I'm not damaging anything. This is good. This is treatment. Imagine if-"His lip wobbled. "Imagine if Mum…"_

" _She'd be able to see it was a con."_

" _A con? No, no, Cal, I've studied the research. I'll show you. It sounds particularly promising, you see the way it targets the-"_

 _Cal interrupted with a groan. "Next you'll be telling me there are no risks."_

" _Well of course they can't guarantee…"_

" _Yeah, exactly. Look I know the ways these things work. They're going to make you sick and all for nothing. Come on, you must know how unlikely it is they'll find a cure."_

" _But even if it just slows down progression."_

" _And if it doesn't?" Cal took a step forwards and gripped his little brother's shoulder. "I know how much you want to be rid of this but this isn't the way to go about it, Ethan."_

 _Ethan shoulders slumped from beneath Cal's hand. "And you have a better idea, hmm?"_

" _Just-" he began. "Just enjoy the time you've got."_

 _Cal watched as Ethan shook his head and turned away. He was certain they were pondering the same question. With no way of knowing how long before the first onset of symptoms, how could Ethan possibly relax? Every day could be the day he notices a tremor in his hand or a slur to his speech or gets hit by a depression that he cannot shift._

" _I don't want to enjoy myself," Ethan said. "I want to find a solution."_

 _Cal exhaled slowly. Ethan had been fascinated with fixing things since he was a small child, starting with jigsaws and small puzzles and progressing to complex diagnoses and his defective big brother. But this was one thing he couldn't fix. No-one could. Cal could scarcely imagine how tough the future was going to get, but he'd witnessed Ethan's frustrations when he could solve something and that, on this huge a scale, would only torture him further._

" _I'm not letting you do this," Cal declared._


	4. Chapter 4

I'm really really sorry for the mammoth wait for an update. I never meant to neglect this story but my life got really busy for a while and, if I'm honest, by the point I had time to write again, I'd kind of lost interest in it. All I can do is hope that there's some of you out there that _haven't_ lost interest! This chapter continues immediately from the previous one, so I hope it makes sense after all this time. I'd love a couple of reviews if you'd be so kind to spare one and I'll try my hardest to keep this going more regularly from now on!

 **Teeloganroryflan:** Thank you so much for reviewing. She may put things into perspective for both the brother's, you'll just have to wait and see! I hope you enjoy this chapter.

 **sweeet-as-honey:** I think however Cal progresses as a character, he's always going to retain that knack for picking up women! I love how you've analysed his intentions and think you're spot on. Thing is, this girl is never going to be that escape he wants as she's a constant reminder of Ethan's condition. Thank you so much for your review and sharing your thoughts on this story, it means a lot.

* * *

4.

" _I'm not letting you do this," Cal declared._

 _Ethan's skin grew hot and tingly and his glasses slipped into an uncomfortable position from the ferocity of his frown. He knew his brother could never resist the opportunity to spoil something for him but Ethan hadn't feared that would stretch to something so huge as his only hope for a tolerable future._

 _He thrust his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and then pointed at Cal with the same angry finger. "It's nothing to do with you!"_

" _Oh, come off it, Ethan, it's everything to do with me. I'm your brother!"_

" _Yet another misfortune of mine."_

 _Ethan noticed a look of hurt cross his brother's face but didn't offer an apology. Cal had no authority to tell him what to do when he's not the one trapped by the inevitability of this disease._

" _Fine," Cal said. He gave a pantomime shrug. "Insult me all you like. I'm sure there's nothing I haven't heard before. But you need to understand, Ethan, there's not a chance in hell that I'm allowing you to go ahead with this trial."_

" _Not allowing me?!" Ethan spluttered. "I don't require your permission."_

" _Someone has to stop you from screwing up your life."_

" _Yes, because the alternative is just splendid!"_

" _I know it's hard-"_

" _You don't know anything," Ethan snapped. "How can you? You don't know what this feels like, to have this, this thing hanging over you constantly. If you knew so much as an iota of how I feel then you'd be just as enthused about this trial as I am." He paused just long enough to take a breath. "Then again, it's not like you to care about someone else, is it?"_

" _Already told you, you can say what you like, I'm not rising to it."_

" _You know," Ethan said, his finger back in his brother's face. "I'm actually surprised. I would have expected you to be on board with anything that could alleviate you of any obligations to stick around in the future."_

" _Keep those insults coming, Nibbles" Cal said. "I just want you to see sense-"_

" _I do!"_

" _-and this trial is a danger to you," Cal continued as if he hadn't heard the interruption. "Look, of course I wish you didn't have the gene but neither I nor anyone can change the fact that you do. You're living in a fantasy. Ethan, these experiments, they're madness! We've seen how wrong they can go."_

" _That's incredibly rare." Ethan heard the lack of conviction in his own voice but the smug look of I-told-you-so on his brother's face impelled him to straighten his back and clear his throat. "There's no element of medicine that hasn't stemmed from a trial. We wouldn't save half the lives we do if it wasn't for the people who attempted something new."_

 _Cal fell quiet but Ethan could see the twitch of a muscle in his brother's jaw which showed a response was imminent._

" _Caleb," Ethan forced himself to take a softer tone. "I've made my choice. Please respect that."_

 _Cal gave a single shake of his head._

" _I've done my research. Cal, honestly, it's all above board. I wouldn't throw myself into something like this unless I truly believed there was a high chance of success."_

" _There's never a high chance, Ethan."_

 _None of the occasions when he'd imagined breaking the news to his brother had gone this badly. His body sagged with deflation and he sunk onto the edge of his bed. He folded his arms, pinning the confirmation letter against his chest. "At least look at the research."_

 _The bed dipped as Cal sat down next to him. "Listen, I swear to you, whenever the symptoms start I will look after you."_

 _Ethan shuffled further up the bed to extend the space between them. "I'm not asking for your false promises to be some sort of carer. I'm fixing things before it gets to that stage." Ethan chanced a glance at his brother. The sympathy on Cal's face was alien to him and did nothing to quell Ethan's resolve. "I'm going ahead with this and frankly there is nothing you can do."_

 _The next breath was stolen from Ethan as Cal lunged at him. The younger brother was knocked backwards and for a moment they struggled chest to chest on top of the bed. Ethan clenched his fist and braced himself to feel the first blow of a fight. But the weight of his brother disappeared almost as soon as it arrived. Ethan pushed himself back to a sitting position and remained frozen in silent confusion before he realised the lack of a punch was due to Cal having seized the medical letter from between his arms._

 _He heard the slam of a door but by the time he reached his feet, the noise had been followed by the unmistakeable sound of a bolt locking him out. He banged a fist against the hard wood of Cal's bedroom door and shouted his brother's name. Before he could assault the door for a second time, he heard his brother's voice. He placed his ear against the door and listened intently._

" _Yes, hello," Cal said. "My name is Ethan Hardy. I'm phoning to cancel my appointment. Would you like the reference number?"_

* * *

Ethan re-buttons his shirt and tries to ignore the pull on his skin from the dressing on the crook of his arm. Blood tests have never fazed him but he's always keen to remove the sticky plaster as soon as the pinprick wound has dried.

He slides his glasses back to their rightful position to observe the clinical gloominess of the room. He's knows he's torturing himself, especially when the exit is right in front of him and the door is a few inviting centimetres ajar. But he takes it as a reminder to appreciate all the time he spends away from this room being examined in multiple ways.

The tests today were largely unnecessary, he thinks, the type of precautions he'd assign to a patient with potentially fictional symptoms. He'd monitored his own ECG as the readings had appeared on the screen and declared himself fit both at rest and while walking on the treadmill. His scores on the peak flow meter had been better than average for a non-smoker of his age and weight. The MRI had been the least pleasant of the tests but he's sure that Doctor Nowak wouldn't have remained as placid if it had shown anything of concern. On surface level he's as healthy as can be.

But the fact he's having tests at all make it impossible to deny the reality that his health is far from perfect. And even though he's blind to the standard NHS posters warning of symptoms and infection control, the decor in this treatment room is yet another reminder of why he's there. Every wall is plastered with logos of pharmaceutical companies, adverts for new trials and certificates denoting previous successes. Being there, there's no way he can pretend he's free from medical concerns.

He walks down the corridor at a far brisker pace than they required from him on the treadmill and only spares a courteous nod towards Nurse Walsh as she wishes him a good day. He wishes he was at work this afternoon with an interesting case to take his mind off things. But instead he's stuck with Cal, who had insisted they took the day off together. Ethan hopes his brother's hangover is bad enough for him to go back to bed and not ask the array of questions he can't summon the willpower to answer.

But once he reaches the waiting area, it's clear that Cal has perked up. Ethan watches as his brother smiles at the girl sat next to him and accepts her phone, dialling his own number and letting it ring just once. From what Ethan can see, she's exactly his brother's type; blonde, attractive and impressed by a pair of biceps. He's barely surprised, if anyone could pick up a woman in a hospital waiting room, it would be Cal.

"Hey," Ethan says.

He thought he'd spoken softly enough not to startle his brother but Cal visibly jumps and turns to face him with a guilty expression.

"God, Ethan!"

"Sorry," he says. His eyes flicker to the girl. She's looking at him with a sense of curiosity, and he assumes she's wondering who he is and why he had to interrupt her flirt. "Sorry," he repeats.

Cal stands and grasps his shoulder. "How did it go?"

She's definitely a pretty girl, Ethan thinks, no wonder Cal swooped in on her. He forces his gaze back to his brother, hoping to avoid the familiar twinges of envy. "Fine."

"Yeah?"

"Well, if strange men poking and prodding you is your thing…"

"Knew I'd come to the right place," the girl says.

Cal snorts. "Speak for yourself!" He gives Ethan a pointed look. "It's Rosie's first injection today."

Ethan's gaze snaps back to the girl and he silently berates himself for being so naive. Of course she's there for treatment; no-one lingers around a hospital without a reason. He frowns. She looks too healthy to be inflicted by a disease, too young to be putting herself through invasive procedures, too composed to be cursed with no future. He's suddenly acutely aware of the dryness of his throat. It's not fair, he thinks, why has life chosen her?

"Well, that's reassuring," Rosie says into the silence.

"Sorry," Ethan splutters. He can feel his cheeks burning red. "I just-"

"People never know what to say."

"No," Ethan agrees. "Although one might assume _I_ should."

She shrugs.

"But honestly," Ethan says, "It's nothing more than a bit of pressure and a dull ache afterwards. Please don't be scared."

She looks the floor. "I don't care about pain or arrogant doctors treating me like a lab rat. The only thing I'm scared of is the thought of it not curing me."


	5. Chapter 5

_Happy New Year everyone! I hope I can kick off 2017 with a decent chapter! Please let me know what you think, I really appreciate every single review, whether it be constructive feedback or a few words letting me know if you enjoyed it,_

 **CBloom2:** Thank you so much for leaving a review and welcoming me back! I'm really glad you're still reading and enjoying.

 **Becs2202:** Rosie may add a new perspective for both brothers but I have a backstory for her too, just still deciding how much of it to include. Thanks you so much for reviewing, it was reassuring to know my aims came across as intended.

* * *

5.

Cal checks over both shoulders to ensure no senior colleagues are nearby before pulling his phone out of his jeans pocket. He activates the screen and sighs deeply when the only message is from an unsaved number asking if he fancies a drink. He's not heard from Rosie for four days now. It's been a long four days of checking his phone and hovering uncertainly over the call button by her name. He feels like Ethan. He feels like Ethan during the nervous stammer and slogan t-shirt phase.

He unlocks his phone and opens his messages to double check that something hadn't come through without providing a notification. But the last message between him and Rosie is the one he sent promising that she'd have a good time if she agreed. It's ridiculous, he tells himself, _he's_ ridiculous. He's never been so desperate to get a response before.

A file is slammed onto the desk next to him. It's a surprise to see his little brother as the culprit for Ethan usually treats patient files with as much respect as the treasured medical journals that live in the glass fronted bookshelf in their flat. Cal shoves his phone back into his pocket before his brother has chance to twig that anything is amiss.

"You look like Mr Atkinson threw up on your feet again," Cal tells his brother.

"Worse."

The corner of Cal's mouth twitches. "Not out the other end?!"

"Teenage girls," Ethan says, punctuating each word with disgust.

"Oh, Nibbles!" In spite of his sulk, Cal can't help but smile. He's witnessed his brother treat angry men twice his size with a firm politeness that even he's envious of, and yet Ethan struggles with adolescent girls as much as he had when he was the same age as them.

"Do you remember that occasion I attended an afterschool chess tournament when Mum told me expressly to come straight home for dinner?" Ethan says. "I was terrified of the punishment."

"Ah, yes!" Cal waves his hands in the air and mimics a higher pitch. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I won't do it again."

Ethan shoots him with a disapproving stare. "And that time Mum shouted at you for smoking. You cried for hours."

Cal hastily looks around to check no-one overheard. He runs a hand through his hair. "No, I can't recall that."

"But honestly, what is wrong with teenagers these days? They do what they like, have no respect for authority, there's _never_ any kind of consequence -"

"Easy, Ethan, they're just kids."

"I know." Ethan sighs deeply. "I just find it hard to comprehend why they'd risk their own health for the sake of a tattoo they're sure to regret in a few months."

Cal nods. He gets it now. It's not the first time since Ethan's diagnosis that he's noticed his brother acting strangely around patients whose injuries or illnesses could be deemed to be self-inflicted. Thankfully, Ethan's ten times more professional than he is, and the indicators are all so subtle that no other members of staff have a clue.

"I informed them that I've contacted their parents," Ethan continues, "and guess what they did? Laughed. They actually laughed."

"It's a front. I'd have done the same in public at their age. Probably still would! Didn't change the fact I was desperately searching for some excuse to prevent me getting grounded."

"Maybe." Ethan removes his glasses and polishes them on the bottom of his scrub top. "I just wish people would appreciate what they have, considering others would give anything to be so fortunate."

Although his brother's point is perpetually valid, the newer, deeper understanding sends a shiver down Cal's spine. Most of their conversations about the Huntington's have been in abrupt bursts of medical practicalities rather than from an emotional perspective. For Ethan to mention how he feels, albeit indirectly, is rare. Cal knows he should encourage that intimacy but he has no idea of how to paraphrase something that's both comforting and wise and yet casual enough not to stray away from their habitual boundaries.

But it seems his brother knows better than to expect a coherent response. Ethan focuses on a spot of dirt next to Cal's shoe for a few silent seconds and then gives a nod of his head as if symbolling time up.

Cal's mouth flaps. "We can swap," he says desperately. "I'll deal with the teenage girls."

Ethan squints at him, his head cocked to the side in confusion.

"Yeah," Cal says, latching on to the idea. "I'm sure I can win them over with a bit of the old Knight charm."

"That's hardly appropriate."

"Ethan-" Cal's shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. From the dejection in his brother's eyes, he can assume Ethan thinks he's ignorant, that he's missed the point, but that's far from the case. "Look, I-"

"I'd better crack on," Ethan says. He retrieves another patient's folder from the pile and squeezes through the small gap between Cal and the desk without any contact.

Cal knows he's missed a scarce opportunity to support his brother but no words can take change the future for Ethan. He sighs guiltily at his brother's back. His hand reaches impulsively for his phone. This time he types out a message: _You've left me hanging long enough_ , and clicks send before he backs out.

Come on, Rosie, he thinks, bring me some good news for once.

* * *

 _Cal had slammed the staffroom door so violently that an agency nurse the other side of the window looked up in concern. He raised his eyebrows at her and she scuttled off, used bedpan still in her hand._

 _He chucked his stethoscope in the vague direction of his locker and collapsed onto the faux-leather sofa with a grunt. It was one hour and twenty-two minutes past the time he should have clocked off shift and yet he'd only just been granted permission to leave. In itself, that wasn't unusual; all of the junior doctors were obligated to work overtime when required. But it wasn't fair that his turn had fallen on a day when he had something much more important to do._

 _He struggled back to a standing position and tried to ignore the burn of his feet from being on them all day. He changed into his own clothes quickly. In preparation for what he had to do, he poured himself a glass of water and gulped it down so desperately that a trickle ran down his chin. The refreshment wasn't enough to invigorate him completely but his throat felt a little more capable of a long, grovelling speech._

 _Despite his tiredness, he opted for the stairs over the lift, knowing it was less likely he'd bump into a nosy colleague. He regretted it after just two flights and had to pause for a few seconds before he could continue._

 _It had been his first time on that ward but he had become so familiar with the hospital's layout that he made it to the reception without stepping a foot wrong. The receptionist wasn't his type and he suspected he wasn't hers either, but he ran his fingers through his hair just on the off chance it would help his case._

" _I need to see Doctor Nowak," he said._

" _Name?"_

" _Caleb Knight."_

 _The receptionist scrutinised the screen in front of her. "Can't see you in the diary. What time did you say your appointment was?"_

" _I didn't." Cal winced. "I don't have one."_

" _Doctor doesn't see anyone without appointment."_

" _This is an exceptional case," Cal said. He rested his elbow on the desk and attempted an enticing smile. "I'm sure there's something you can do."_

" _There's not."_

 _Cal felt the smile fall from his face. "Look, it's about Ethan Hardy."_

" _Who?"_

" _He's my brother." Cal's arm fell flat on the desk making a slapping noise. "Until recently, he was going to be involved in the medical trial for Huntington's Disease. I need to reinstate his first appointment."_

 _The receptionist frowned. "So he's no longer a participant?"_

" _Not exactly, you see-"_

" _If he has relinquished his place, then it will have been offered to the next person on the list."_

" _No, it can't be!" Cal let out a growl of frustration. "Look, I'll be honest with you. I freaked out. I cancelled the appointment without his permission. You can't punish Ethan for something that I did."_

" _He'll need to reapply to the waiting list."_

" _Please," Cal said. He was sure that flirting with the woman wasn't going to win her over but if begging was likely to get him what he wanted then he had no problem with lowering himself to that standard. "Ethan, my brother, he's the nicest person you'll ever meet. He's kind and he's intelligent. He really would be an asset to the trial."_

" _There's nothing I can do. I'm sorry."_

 _Cal whimpered. It took all his strength to stop himself stamping his foot. "He's not even talking to me at the moment," he said._

 _The receptionist leant back in her seat as if she was trying to get as far away from him as possible but Cal could almost imagine a look of sympathy cross her face. Eventually she exhaled slowly. "Get him to reapply," she said. "I can't reinstate his place but I can bump him to the top of the waiting list. All it would take is for one more person to drop out and we could invite him back."_

 _Cal reached across the desk and grabbed her hand. "Thank you. Honestly, thank you so much."_

 _She remained polite enough to turn the grasp into an almost adequate handshake but Cal was far from oblivious to the stern angle of her eyebrows._

" _I can't guarantee anything," she warned._

" _Is a little gentle coercion out the question?" he asked. His grin was not returned. "Fine. No guarantees. But you can at least keep your fingers crossed for me. For him."_

 _She raised both hands to show the first two fingers on each were crossed but she remained straight faced. "Whatever the outcome, now might be a good time to start making it up to your brother."_

* * *

Cal's phone vibrates against his thigh. His hand twitches and he has to hastily make a fist to prevent his fingers from sliding into his pocket and retrieving the object. His patient has already made him aware that he is on the verge of making a complaint and Cal, grateful that the allegations of rudeness are directed towards Louise rather than himself, does not intend to add his name to the list.

"They treat them better in prisons these days," the patient continues. "Three hot meals a day and warm bed to sleep in. May as well kill someone and see what they make of that!"

Cal works hard to keep a neutral expression as he digests the eighty-three year old's gaunt frame. He decides he doesn't feel remotely threatened.

"It's alright for you," the man declares. "Doctor's salary. Now when you get to my age you'll see what I mean. They cut my pension credits last year, you know."

"Really," Cal says. "Do you mind if I-"

"Said they'd been paying me wrong all this time and now they're asking for their money back! Cheek of it."

Cal clears his throat. "I just need to-"

"Don't suppose you'd have a word, would you, Doc? Maybe they'd listen to you."

Cal removes his stethoscope from around his neck, determined to make his intentions clear this time. "My job is to examine you, Mr Rowland."

"Oh, alright," the man says, tutting. "Not that there's any point. Even my heart's on the way out now!"

Cal loosens his patient's gown and places the stethoscope against his chest. He half shuts his eyes as he listens to the steady heartbeat. "I wouldn't be so sure about that," he tells his patient. "There's no obvious abnormalities."

"There must be. Never felt pain like it!"

"Mmm," Cal says. "I'm going to send you for a CT scan and we'll perform a routine blood test to be absolutely sure, but your symptoms don't suggest a heart attack to me."

He pushes himself into a more upright position on the bed and gawps at Cal. "Well what on earth could it be?"

"Like I say, we'll know for definite after the tests, but my money would be on bad indigestion."

"Indigestion?" he says with disgust. "Impossible. I can barely afford to eat."

Cal gives a courteous smile. "I'll get a nurse to take some bloods. Please excuse me."

He slinks out of the cubicle and rolls his eyes. He doesn't know, or care, whether Mr Rowland's opinions on society are valid, only that they prevented him from reading his text message as soon as he would have liked.

The name that flashes up on the screen makes him grin and he only supresses a triumphant whoop because he knows it would draw attention to the fact he's doing something he shouldn't.

He slides his finger across the screen to read Rosie's text: _If it's that important to you, then fine, I'll do it. I'll go on a date with your brother x_

Cal punches the air and saunters off in a search for Ethan.


	6. Chapter 6

_I'm worried that I've put people off by jumping around with the timescale a little too much. I'm still not sure whether I've made the right decision but I've decided to end the flashbacks after this chapter in the hope it brings back a few more readers. This chapter is entirely in the past but after this I will focus on the present. I still have lots of plans for this story so I really hope there's people out there who are still enjoying it. Please please leave a review to let me know. I'd love to get more than two this time if possible._

 **Becs2202:** I certainly agree about the current onscreen Cal, it's so frustrating that he's gone back to his old ways after all those months of progression. I could go on forever about this but I'll save it for my next rant in the forums haha. I want to write about the Cal we all love in this story, the one who winds his brother up and gets things wrong, but who is a good guy overall and would do anything for his little brother. Thank you for reviewing, I really appreciate it.

 **sweeet-as-honey:** Thank you for your reviews. I'm sad you're not enjoying Ethan in Casualty at the moment but I have all my fingers and toes crossed that both he and Cal will return to their normal selves very soon. I'm glad you liked the little twist - it sort of came about accidentally when I was writing but I thought I'd keep it in. The chapter after this one will reveal how Ethan feels about it but (without wanting to give too much away) you've made a few good points there. I love that you seem to get what I'm hinting at.

* * *

6.

 _Ethan had succeeded in finding the most isolated table in the pub and had opted to sit on the outermost seat in the hope that it discouraged anyone from joining him. He wasn't in the mood to talk. He wasn't sure if he was even capable of coherent conversation. Despite the steady flow of alcohol, his head ached with the intensity of his thoughts._

 _Earlier that day, Cal had informed him that he'd got him his place reinstated on the trial. The smugness in his brother's voice had infuriated Ethan far more than the news. He was back on the trial. He'd wanted more than anything to get back on the trial. But he refused to show any leniency towards Cal or his brother would never learn to consider the consequences of his actions; that some things were too important for him to screw up._

 _Ethan was on his fourth beer which meant he had reached the point where warm fuzziness battled against nausea to be the dominant force. Hoping that the former would succeed, he raised the pint glass to his lips and let the last few drops trickle down his throat._

 _Across the room he could see several of his colleagues enjoying a drink together. Every so often one of them would throw a look in his direction and Ethan was sure he hadn't imagined hearing a mention of his name. Usually he would have joined them, out of courtesy if not preference, but Cal was with them and Ethan was sure that socialising with his brother would not end amicably._

 _Ethan checked around the pub to ensure other reclusive tables were available should his be pilfered while he left it unattended to get another drink. He strode to the end of the bar furthest away from his colleagues and ordered another pint of the same beer. Balancing his briefcase between his thigh and the side of the bar he fished through paperwork to find his wallet. Under the influence of alcohol, he couldn't hold the awkward position for long and as he stumbled his briefcase fell to the floor with a thud. His cheeks burned and he avoided looking anywhere other than the barman as he apologised, certain that he had drew unwelcome attention to himself._

 _He crouched to the floor to gather his possessions but a hand clamped around his wrist, stalling him. Ethan scowled as he watched his brother roughly shove the documents back inside the briefcase, a smirk on his face._

" _You sure you should be having another?"_

 _Ethan ignored him._

" _Okay," Cal said, "Well, why don't we have one together?"_

 _Ethan snatched his belongings back and extracted enough change to pay for the drink. He turned away from his brother and headed back to his isolated seat without a word. He knew Cal well enough to suspect he was following, but didn't get any confirmation until he was back at the table and had placed his beer securely on the mat._

" _You can't ignore me forever."_

 _Ethan raised his eyebrows and took a gulp of his drink._

" _Fine, get drunk," Cal said. "Your problems will still be there in the morning, you know."_

 _Ethan spluttered and hastily wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. "That's rich!" he snapped, inwardly cursing himself for breaking his silence._

 _Despite not being invited, Cal took the seat opposite him and moved the pint to the side of the table. Ethan supposed that was a safer place for the drink than directly in front of him, but to spite his brother he moved it straight back to where it had been. Some of the liquid slopped over the top of the glass and formed a puddle on the table._

" _I think it's time you stopped being mad at me," Cal said._

 _Ethan rubbed at his temple. He wasn't sure whether Cal was solely to blame for his headache or whether the alcohol or the dingily lit pub had any impact, but his brother's presence certainly wasn't helping. "That's not for you to determine."_

" _Everything sorted itself out. You're back in the trial."_

" _That doesn't change what you did." Ethan slapped his palm against the table and glowered at his brother. "Caleb, you had no right to go against my wishes and cancel my appointment like that. That's not to mention the fraud of assuming my name."_

" _I know." Cal nodded. "And I'm sorry."_

" _Yeah, so you say. It's not the first time though is it? You always try to control me and use me to your advantage."_

 _Cal stared glumly at his hands and began to pick at a fingernail. "It's not like that."_

" _Do I need to refresh your memory?"_

" _Ethan, come on, I thought I was doing the right thing!"_

 _Ethan scoffed. The temperature in the pub was suddenly unbearably hot. A bout of queasiness stirred in the pit of his stomach. He stood up so quickly that his chair wobbled and only just remained upright. The urge for fresh air easily outweighed the need to tell Cal where he was going, so he rushed for the door, not even stopping to admonish his brother when he saw him help himself to a generous swig of his pint._

 _Once outside he leant on the wall and took several deep gulps of air. The stone wall was cold against his back but it was welcome after the oppressive heat of the pub. He scrunched his eyes shut and let his head succumb to the sway of dizziness. The thing he disliked the most about drinking was the loss of normal inhibitions but dizziness came a close second. However, the more forcefully the world spun, the harder it became to think about what Cal had done. He was grateful for that, if nothing else._

" _You're a terrible lightweight," a voice said._

 _Ethan opened his eyes and gradually his brother's face came into focus._

" _I'll take you home."_

" _No," Ethan said "I'll go by myself."_

" _Nibbles, this is no time to be stubborn, you look like you're about to keel over." Cal hoisted one of Ethan's arms over his shoulder. "Lean on me."_

 _Ethan yanked his arm back out of his brother's grip. "Stop telling me what to do!" He sunk into a sitting position, adamant that he had done so out of obstinacy and not because Cal was right and his legs would no longer hold him. "I'm staying here."_

 _Cal groaned but joined him on the floor._

" _Get lost, Caleb."_

" _That's no way to talk to your only brother!"_

" _What would you know?!" Ethan fixed his brother with a meaningful glare._

 _Cal didn't reply immediately. He pulled his knees to his chest and leant on them with one arm, his head tilted to face Ethan. "I get that you're angry and yeah, I went about it the wrong way, but you need to understand that I only cancelled that appointment because I care."_

 _Ethan shook his head. There had been so many occasions when Cal had squirmed his way out of difficult situations by manipulating the truth but he had grown wise to it. His brother didn't care. How could he when he was against the one treatment that could save him?_

" _I wanted you to be happy for me," Ethan said quietly._

" _I will be if it works!"_

" _But don't you see? I nearly didn't get the chance to see if it works because of you. Because of your selfishness." Ethan turned to face Cal so quickly that the dizziness overwhelmed him for a moment and he had to pause to quell the threat of nausea. "If you actually cared about me you would have respected my choice."_

" _You'd rather I'd have pretended there were no risks just so that I didn't burst your precious little bubble? Get a grip, Ethan."_

" _What is wrong with you?" Ethan spat. "You have everything and yet you're still trying to take something else from me."_

" _Oh, would you quit the pity parade-"_

 _Ethan's mind went blank with anger and he was unable to respond with words. His body moved quickly and he aimed a sloppy punch towards Cal's jaw. He grunted in frustration as the older brother caught him by the wrist._

" _Don't even try it," Cal said. His nail began to dig into Ethan's skin from the force of the hold. "You know I can beat you when you're sober, you stand no chance pissed."_

 _Ethan wriggled and managed to direct his other fist into his brother's stomach but he had been unable to inject much power into the blow and Cal didn't display any signs of pain. Before he could attempt a stronger punch, Cal grabbed that wrist too and twisted it just far enough for Ethan to squirm in discomfort._

" _Get off me!" Ethan shouted._

 _Cal twisted his wrist a little further. "Not while you're trying to hit me!"_

 _Ethan used all his strength to shove his brother but as his arms were still restrained there was little impact. He tried again, but Cal remained a solid force that he was unable to break free from. His only triumph came by smashing Cal's elbow against the wall as they toppled to one side but that was more of a fluke than an intention._

 _Even with an injury, Cal refused to let go. Ethan thrust with his shoulders to try escape the hold but Cal counterbalanced every movement as they wrestled against each other. It was the realisation that his brother was controlling him physically as well as with his life choices that sent a surge of emotion through Ethan. He thrashed against Cal with revitalised energy._

 _From the fierce grip around his wrists, Ethan knew that his brother's focus was on keeping hold of him so that he was unable to land any punches. But Cal's breaths fell heavily and Ethan could tell he was beginning to struggle to defend himself. He was on the verge of knocking Cal onto his back when the urge to fight seemed to drop out of him. He fell limp against his brother and feebly panted until he got his breath back._

 _He felt Cal's fingers slacken and his wrists were released, the left one first and the right a few seconds later. He flinched as Cal's hand made contact with his back but it was clear the fight was over when his brother soothingly rubbed at the base of his neck._

 _Ethan lifted his head and they looked at each other. He was expecting his brother to look angry but instead there was uncertainty in his eyes and surprise on a slightly open mouth._

" _Better?" Cal asked in a mockingly sweet voice._

 _Ethan sat up and rubbed at his sore wrists. "I'm still cross with you."_

" _Figured as much!"_

" _Admit it; you cancelled that appointment because you couldn't bear to lose the argument."_

" _That's not true." Cal examined the gash to his elbow and smeared a trickle of blood down his arm. "I cancelled it because I think you're making a mistake."_

" _But it's my mistake to make!"_

" _God, Ethan, there's so many risks. I read the research. And I mean read it properly, not just scanned through." He ran a hand over the back of his head. "Please don't get involved. I know you hate me for even asking that but I have to. If something was to go wrong… it's too soon, Ethan."_

 _Ethan exhaled and as he did so it felt as if the strength was also being pushed out of his body. "What if they can cure it?" he murmured._

" _Let someone else be guinea-pig for now. You can get involved next time, yeah?"_

" _There might not be a next time."_

" _There will be," Cal said unconvincingly._

 _Ethan shook his head. "I'm not going to change my mind, Cal."_

 _Neither brother continued to speak but silence was prevented by an occasional sigh. Ethan looked around him as it was preferable to looking at his brother. A group of girls stumbled past them, giggling and throwing strange looks in their direction. It was possible, Ethan supposed, that they'd witnessed the whole debacle. It was pitch black now and he wondered whether the night sky had been so dark the whole time they'd been outside._

 _Cal cleared his throat and Ethan noticed he was looking at him out of the corner of his eye, trying to establish whether it was safe to speak yet._

 _Ethan made the decision for him. "Shall we go? It's freezing."_

 _Cal snorted. "So you can walk now?"_

 _Ethan climbed to his feet to demonstrate. He held out a hand and helped his brother stand. "How's your elbow?"_

" _I'll live." There was a pause. "And you? Are you okay?"_

" _Nothing I can't cope with," Ethan said. He hoped Cal hadn't noticed how he glossed over the answer. "I still have one question though. If you're still so against the trial, why did you bother to get my place reinstated?"_

 _Cal smiled ruefully. "Because you weren't talking to me," he said. "Do you realise how irritating that is?"_


	7. Chapter 7

_I appreciate the reviews so much. I love writing regardless, but it does make it feel more worth it when I hear your kind words, so thank you for leaving your thoughts. Hope you continue to enjoy this next chapter. Haven't written anything beyond this yet, so fingers crossed for a productive afternoon! Please review, even if it's just a few words or some tips to improve._

 **Becs2202:** I'm glad to hear I managed to get them in character and it was fun writing their little fight! Thank you so much for your support with this story.

 **Mills2808:** Thank you for reviewing. One of the things I was aiming for was for some ambiguity as to which was in the right (I have no idea myself, whose opinion is the 'better' one) so I'm really pleased that has worked.

 **Bonnie Sveen Fan:** No need to apologise but I'm really pleased you're still enjoying it. Thanks for leaving a review :)

 **sweeet-as-honey:** Wow, thank you for such a long review. I'm going to leave the flashbacks for now, but that's not to say they won't make a return later if it feels relevant (or if I can't make a decent amount of words haha). I'm really pleased you enjoyed the chapter and Cal's reasons behind his actions - of course, that's not the only reason, but Cal's not going to admit how much Ethan means to him if he can avoid it! Glad you thought their conversation was in character.

* * *

7.

Cal shuffles to the edge of his chair and rests his elbows on his knees and his chin on his interlocked fists. He supposes he should be grateful they've deigned to provide him with a chair this time; uncomfortable as it is, it's far better than having to kneel on the floor like he did for Ethan's first injection.

His seat is just about high enough that he can see over Ethan's body to the contents of the surgical tray. He understands, now, why so many people are terrified of needles. The two syringes wouldn't bother him normally, but he has to supress a shudder as he thinks of them being injected into his brother's spinal canal. Next to the syringes is a pair of latex gloves, still in their packet, and a wad of bandages in case the injection causes his brother to bleed. There's a greater supply of bandages than Cal deems necessary to wipe a trickle of blood from a needle prick and he imagines Doctor Nowak pressing them against Ethan's back trying to stem a haemorrhage.

He's so distracted envisaging the worst that he isn't aware Ethan has moved until he hears the nurse admonishing him for doing so. He shifts his gaze and discovers that his brother has uncurled his legs and is propping himself up on one arm.

"What are you doing?" Cal asks.

"You look a little peaky."

Cal shakes his head. "I'm fine, Nibbles."

"Well if you _are_ sick, please turn away," Ethan says. "I'm hardly fair game once I'm anaesthetised"

"Now there's an idea! The fun I could have with a permanent marker."

"You're not funny."

"I beg to differ," Cal says but he offers a smile to show Ethan he's joking. "What do you reckon, comedy moustache or the outline of a-"

"Caleb!"

"Okay, okay!" Cal holds his hands in the air. "Moustache it is."

He expects another reprimand but Ethan gives a resolute sigh and lowers himself back onto the bed. The smile falls from Cal's face. He narrows his eyes as the nurse manoeuvres Ethan's legs into the required position, folded awkwardly against his chest. He wants to remind her that his brother is perfectly capable of moving himself but the words stick in his mouth as he contemplates the day when Ethan can no longer do so.

The nurse unties Ethan's gown and scrubs at his bare back with a sterile wipe. The antiseptic smell drifts towards Cal and he scrunches his nose, wondering why it smells so much more potent than when he uses them in the E.D. His hearing seems to have intensified as well; Ethan's breaths fall loudly on an otherwise quiet room. He glances at his brother. He's frowning and looks as if he's concentrating fervently on an insignificant spot on the wall.

Doctor Nowak retrieves the smaller syringe and steps closer to Ethan, placing a gloved hand on his back. "I'm about to administer the anaesthetic," he says, "please remain stationary."

Cal leans forwards to watch as the injection is delivered. He wants to beg the doctor to stop. He wants to knock the equipment out of his hand. He'd expected it to be easier to witness this time but he still feels nauseous at seeing his brother participate in something that could go so badly wrong. He clenches his fist and fights to maintain a neutral expression.

He can tell the moment the anaesthetic takes effect for Ethan gives a shaky sigh and the tension slumps out of his shoulder. Cal can only imagine how horrible it must feel lying there unable to move and, despite his trembling bottom lip, he thinks Ethan's doing a good job at remaining composed. He knows that he wouldn't be faring as well if their positions were reversed. Then again, he thinks, if he'd been the one to be diagnosed with Huntington's, he'd probably have ended up in a drunken stupor in a ditch the other side of Holby.

Doctor Nowak prods the base of Ethan's spine with a probe. "Can you feel anything?"

"No," Ethan says.

He works his way up Ethan's back, seeming to press harder each time but eliciting no reaction. "Good," the doctor says. He accepts the syringe from the nurse and holds it up to the light. "Ethan, we're ready for the injection. Same as before, the most you'll feel is a little pressure."

Cal winces as the experimental drug is pumped into his brother. At first Ethan doesn't visibly react but as the remaining few millimetres are injected, he sees his brother grimace.

"Okay?" he asks.

Ethan responds in the form of a noise somewhere between a grunt and a whimper.

Cal wishes he knew a way to comfort him. During the first treatment he'd held his brother's hand. It had been stupid of course, Ethan hadn't had any sensation in the appendage, but Cal had been so desperate to prove he was going to be supportive that his arm had moved seemingly of its own accord.

If he were to touch somewhere Ethan could feel, he knows it would need to be from the neck up. Cal considers stroking his brother's hair and lets his hand linger just above Ethan's ear as he debates. He decides it's feels too much like something he would do to soothe a girlfriend he cared little about and so settles for a repeat gesture, slipping his hand beneath his brother's and giving it a squeeze. Ethan's hand remains limp but the crease lines on his forehead fade.

Doctor Nowak drops the needle into the sharps bin and steps to the side allowing the nurse to tape a bandage over the puncture wound. "We're all done for now," he says, his back still to Ethan as he disposes of his surgical gloves. "I'll see you in a week for the next round of tests."

Cal's struck by how quickly the doctor's excused himself again and whips his head round to glare at his disappearing back. "Nice to see you too," he mutters, unperturbed by the nurse's presence.

"Cal," Ethan warns. "He's just busy. You know what it's like."

Cal hums his disagreement. They're busy in the E.D. too and yet most of his colleagues manage the odd pleasantry amid treatment.

The nurse remains professionally neutral as she finishes dressing Ethan's back and drapes a blanket over the lower half of his body. She manages a smile as she tells Ethan to rest until the anaesthetic has completely worn off, but Cal decides he doesn't like her much more than the doctor. His brother deserves more consideration.

He slides his hand out from between Ethan's and leans against the back of the chair, attempting to find a comfortable position.

Ethan looks at him blankly. "Um, aren't you going?"

"Nothing better to do," Cal says. "Unless you're trying to get rid of me?"

"No, no," Ethan stammers. "It's just- I know it's far from the height of fun."

"Well I wouldn't spend my day here for just anyone, Nibbles."

Ethan gives a weak smile. "Thanks."

"You could make it up to me if you wanted, you know." Cal raises an eyebrow. "Do you realise what a difficult position you're putting me in, having to turn Rosie down on your behalf?"

Ethan's eyes widen. "You've not told her yet?"

"I was hoping you'd change your mind," Cal says. "I mean, when was the last time you had a girl _that fit_ asking you out? Surprised it isn't me she wants!"

"But I don't even know her. We probably have nothing in common whatsoever."

"Then get to know her! From what I've gathered, you two would have plenty to talk about."

"Caleb, I sincerely hope you're not about to suggest that just because we have the same condition we'd be compatible."

A twinge of guilt constricts Cal's throat. He feigns a coughing fit to buy enough time to think of a suitable response but Ethan sighs deeply, evidently not fooled.

"Oh, Cal," he says. "That _was_ your point, wasn't it?"

"Not my _only_ point," Cal replies sulkily. "I'm sure she likes, um, foreign films and five-hour scientific lectures as much as you do."

"Really," Ethan deadpans.

"And she _is_ hot."

Cal's not sure whether to take Ethan's silence as agreement or disgust. He picks at a bit of dead skin at the corner of his nail as he hesitates, trying to weigh up how far he can push his brother and whether it's cruel to annoy him when he's not in a position to throw a punch.

"Perhaps," he begins, "it would be beneficial for you to talk to someone who's going through the same as you."

"What's there to talk about?" Ethan challenges.

Cal fidgets in his chair. "I dunno, I just thought-" He breaks off. "Forget it. I was wrong. I messed up as usual."

"What do you mean?" Ethan asks sharply.

Cal exhales as he realises he's dropped himself in it. He runs a hand across the back of his head. "Shall I go get us some coffees ready for when the anaesthetic's worn off?"

"No, tell me how you messed up."

"It's nothing."

"Cal!"

"Okay," Cal says. "It's no big deal." He sincerely hopes his brother agrees with that statement. "Look, it was my idea for you and Rosie to go on a date."

The surprise on Ethan's face is immediately replaced with a frown. "What on earth for?"

"I, um, thought you'd make a nice couple," Cal says but he can hear the lack of conviction in his own voice.

"You thought because we both have Huntington's Disease we'd be better for each other than we would for anyone else."

Cal can't help but find it strange to hear the familiar tone of anger within Ethan's voice without the frustrated gesticulations that usually come with it. "No, not like that." He groans. "I know I'm useless at this, Ethan. This supportive big brother stuff. And even though I want to be here for you, there's no pretending I'm not against this trial. I thought it might do you good to be around someone who understands your perspective better than I do." He looks away from Ethan, down in his lap. "That's all. I know it was wrong."

"But Cal," Ethan says, his tone softer this time. "I'd rather have you, no matter how useless you are, than some woman I hardly know."

Cal's chest throbs. "Yeah?"

"Obviously," Ethan tells him. "Besides, a relationship is the last thing on my mind at the moment. But even if I did want one, I certainly don't appreciate you telling me who it has to be with."

"At least I set you up with someone decent," Cal grumbles.

As Ethan fails to disguise a smile, Cal feels the tension in his shoulders ease. Perhaps Ethan is only avoiding an argument because he's lying on a hospital bed, but Cal hopes there's more sentiment behind it than that.

He watches as Ethan battles against the anaesthetic to move his legs into a more comfortable position. The simplest solution would be to reach out and help but Cal knows his brother would be offended. One day Ethan will become reliant on assistance for everything but the incapacity is only temporary for now; the discussion about how Cal is going to care for him can wait.

Cal shivers involuntarily. If he's finding it hard to witness his brother undergoing treatment, it's going to be near impossible to watch him deteriorate into a relative stranger, a victim consumed by a disease. Everything that makes Ethan _his_ Ethan is going to be stolen from him. How can life be so cruel as to destroy the person Cal loves the most?

But the alternative would require a miracle and Cal doesn't believe in miracles any more. He hadn't expected Ethan would either. A moment passes where he contemplates the trial through his brother's eyes. He's not so insensitive that he can't comprehend the need for hope, the need to believe the trial is genuine, effective, that it will provide the foundations for established successes. But Cal knows the only thing worse than an absence of hope is having it obliterated. This trial is going to shatter his little brother's heart for the second time. And he'll fall from a greater height considering his head's been in the clouds.

Cal angles his upper body out of his brother's eye line so that he can clasp a hand over his mouth and stifle a shuddering sigh. He's never been so desperate to be wrong. In fact, he'll give just about anything to be wrong. Because otherwise, it means they're living in the kind of world where the best people are given the worst sentence. And because that means he has no choice but to watch his baby brother suffer an undignified and painful death.


	8. Chapter 8

_Sorry there's been a bit of a wait. I wanted to ensure I got Rosie right but I don't know if I have the skill to make a character seem complex rather than just inconsistent! Thanks for all your reviews, I've not been feeling very confident with my writing recently, so it really helps to have your support. I would love it if you could leave some feedback on this chapter too._

 **Becs2202:** I too love those moments (even if they are far too rare) that remind us they're brothers and that they love each other. I was aiming for that with the last chapter but it accidentally turned angsty towards the end. That seems to be a recurring theme in this chapter too, oops! I hope you enjoy it anyway and thank you so much for all your reviews.

 **Bonnie Sveen Fan:** Thanks for reviewing. I like to believe Cal would support Ethan through something like this but I can't promise it'll be plain sailing throughout.

 **Teeloganroryflan:** Thanks for your kind words, I'm really pleased you liked it. I love Cal's emotional side so I enjoyed exploring it in that chapter.

 **casslourocks:** Thank you so much for your review. I find the emotional stuff miles easier to write than humourous but wanted to keep them in character so threw a few little jokes in there and I'm pleased it worked. I'm still toying with how the trial is going to end so feel free to send a few bribes my way haha! I'd love relieve Ethan of his future but it's hard to decide as the medical trials I based this on and used for research have concluded yet. I hope you continue to enjoy this story.

* * *

8.

Upon hearing a female voice call his name, Ethan jumps. His instinct suggests that one of his colleagues, Mrs Beauchamp or Lily, has followed him to the research ward and he hastily wonders if he can convince them he's there for work purposes despite wearing his corduroy trousers rather than his scrubs.

So far, he's managed to negotiate his days off to reflect his appointment schedule, but he suspects it's only a matter of time before his increased frequency of off-duty requests get questioned. Cal's already advised him to be honest and Ethan doesn't know what irritates him more, the fact that Cal's right or the fact that it is _Cal_ who's right.

He looks over his shoulder, down the corridor of treatment rooms he's just passed, and sees Rosie shuffling out of one of the many doors. He can tell she's just had her injection from the way she moves stiffly as she transfers her weight from one foot to the other. He lifts his hand in a wave. She returns the greeting with a smile and the upward curve of her lips reminds Ethan how attractive she is. He feels heat creep to his cheeks. She must know by now that he turned her down.

"I got bored waiting for the anaesthetic to wear off," she says, "but I'm beginning to regret it. You'd better catch me if I fall!"

"Oh, um, I'll try my best," Ethan replies. He takes a few steps up the corridor to meet her.

"Thanks." Rosie loops one of her arms around Ethan's shoulders and leans heavily into him.

In order to steady her, his hand clasps her side at the spot where waist becomes hip. Her body is pressed close to his and he can't help but think that they're acting like there's more between them than strangers on the same medical trial.

"Shall we take a seat?"

"Think I'd better," she says, shakily.

He helps her lower herself onto the nearest chair in the waiting room and hovers awkwardly in front of her. He scrutinises her to ensure there's nothing more serious going on than the aftereffects of an anaesthetic. She's pale but not flushed or sweaty and although she's trembling slightly he knows that's likely to be from the strain on her muscles from fighting to regain control.

"You can go now," she tells him.

"Oh," Ethan says. He looks towards the exit but doesn't move. "Perhaps I should stay… only, I'm a doctor, and if you're not feeling well-"

"I'm fine."

"- then it's better to have someone around."

She looks him squarely in the eye. "But you don't _want_ to be around me, remember, Ethan?"

"No, I-" he says. He fidgets uncomfortably. "I just-" He rubs at his forehead. "Sorry. It was just… my brother… he- he didn't consider _asking_ me first and I- well. It's nothing personal."

"I can't pretend it didn't hurt."

"I am truly sorry," Ethan says.

"I don't know if I'll ever get over it."

Ethan watches in despair as Rosie buries her head in her hands. A strange noise erupts from that sounds like a sob. He steps towards her and then takes another step back. He searches his pockets for a tissue but can only find the handkerchief he used to wipe his brow after the fitness section of his assessment. But when she lifts her head he can see her cheeks are dry and he realises the noise must have been a laugh.

"Um," he says, wondering where his usual eloquence has vanished too.

"I'm sorry," she giggles, "couldn't help myself!"

"You're not upset?" he ventures.

"No. No offence. Random set ups don't usually work out as planned."

Ethan takes the seat next to her. "Caleb means well. Most of the time."

"But thinks he has the right to tell you what to do? Trust me, I'm familiar with that kind of relative."

Ethan dips his head in silent consensus but he doesn't reply. Although he's endured years of frustration at Cal's antics, they've been getting on too well recently for him to share their complex relationship with an outsider.

"Do you fancy a coffee?" he asks. "I can bring some up here while you're regaining your strength."

"I'll have a hot chocolate if you're buying?"

Ethan gives a decisive nod. "My treat!"

He strides towards the exit with a purpose, grateful that he's only been there for an observation session and so has retained his capability to look after her. He's loath to admit to anyone, even Cal, how much he hates the loss of sensation from the anaesthetic but it helps him understand why Rosie bowed to the frustration of waiting for it to wear off and left before she should.

He keeps his head down as he enters the café. It's seldom that his colleagues buy their drinks when there's a supply of tea and coffee in the staff room, but he knows that on the odd occasion, if someone is pulling a double shift or suffering a particularly bad hangover, when an adequate hit of caffeine has to be purchased.

He greets the barista with a smile, grateful that the room is free of familiar faces, but young server remains sullen as she asks him if he wants whipped cream on the hot chocolate. He struggles to decide and only stops dithering when she tuts and pointedly looks towards the long queue. He apologises for his indecision by allowing her to pocket the one pound forty-nine change.

Rosie's on her phone by the time he gets back but she ends the call swiftly and shoves the phone back into the pocket of her leather jacket.

"My mum," she says. "She won't even notice I've hung up."

"Right." Ethan can't imagine ever having terminated one of Matilda's calls, no matter how one-sided the conversation had become. He takes the seat next to Rosie and passes her the drink. "They asked if you wanted cream," he says.

"Obviously!"

"Oh, um, sorry."

Rosie removes the lid from the cardboard cup to inspect it. "What is the point of a hot chocolate without cream?!"

"I thought you may be watching your weight," he explains.

"Ethan!"

"No, no, not like that! You don't need to. It's just, some girls avoid- but you certainly don't need to. Not at all." He shakes his head, hoping that reinforces the point. "Sorry." He sighs and holds his hand out to retrieve the drink. "Um, I can take it back?"

"No, don't be silly, I'm not gonna let you leave me on my own again."

"Sorry," Ethan repeats. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel normal until I move," she tells him. "Like, I'm not numb anymore but my body seems stuck in slow motion."

"Ah, yes, when the body can't quite keep up with the brain. I'm familiar."

"I hate it."

Ethan sees her shudder and his forehead creases as he tries to think of words of comfort. The silence is disturbed by the sound of a phone vibrating. He looks expectantly to Rosie. She checks the screen but neither answers nor rejects the call.

"I can step aside if you need to take that in private," he offers.

"No. It's my mum again. I don't need another lecture." She silences the call. "It was the 'I told you so' speech. I made the mistake of telling her I don't feel great and she was already fuming that I signed up for this trial."

The words tumble from Ethan's mouth before he has fully thought them through. "Cal was like that too at first," he says.

"Really?"

"We don't agree on much." Ethan gives a wry smile. "But honestly, I'd expected him to be thrilled. My only concern was that he'd set his hopes too high!"

"What do you mean?"

Ethan sighs. "Caleb has a habit of burying his head in the sand. I thought there was a possibility he'd use this trial as a way to pretend everything was okay. And then, if it is unsuccessful, it would hit him even harder."

"Hit _him_ harder?" Rosie quotes. "But it's not _him_ that's got the gene, is it? It's nothing to do with him."

"He's my brother."

She scoffs. "I take it you've not had the diagnosis long?"

"Less than a year," Ethan says

"I can tell." Rosie places her drink on the floor and turns to face him. Her bottom lip contorts as she pulls it with her teeth. "Look, I don't know how to say this tactfully, so I won't even try. But most people can't deal with this. Family, friends, partners, they all leave eventually. Maybe they don't want to leave _you_ but they want to leave the Huntington's and, luckily for them, they can." She places her hand on Ethan's arm and gives it a fleeting squeeze. "It's best not to get your hopes up."

Ethan feels his mouth flapping as he searches for some words. He's had similar thoughts himself and he can't pretend his brother's track record doesn't concern him. But he knows, whatever happens, that Cal has been hurt by the diagnosis too. And he has to cling onto the hope that something good can come out of their pain. As he searches for something to refute Rosie's claim, he notices her glance at her phone and it provides the reminder he needs. "Your mum hasn't gone," he points out.

"I'm the only thing she has left of Dad," she says so quickly it sounds rehearsed.

He bows his head. "Was it your dad who..?"

"Yes." She's silent for a second. "He got ill soon after I was born. He didn't know he had the gene until then; my gran didn't have it but my dad's dad didn't stick around so we reckon the disease came from him. The bastard never bothered to warn us." She takes a deep breath but the frown persists. "I've spent my whole life knowing what my future holds."

"I didn't think you could be tested before eighteen?"

"Yeah, well I officially found out three weeks after my eighteenth birthday," she says, "but it only confirmed what I already knew. I was a kid when my dad deteriorated but it didn't feel like I was watching someone else get sick, it felt like one of those nightmares, you know, when you're falling down a hole and you're falling so far and so fast that when you hit the ground you're certain to die, but somehow you never hit the ground you just keep falling."

Ethan feels like someone has punched him in the stomach. He meets Rosie's eyes and is surprised by the intensity of her stare. "And then eventually," he says softly, "without even realising that there's been a shift in perspective, you stop fearing the moment you hit the ground and start longing for it instead because that will put an end to the fearful anticipation."

Although Rosie's brows remain creased, she manages a small smile. "You've had that nightmare too."

"Something similar."

"When I was twelve my dad died but the falling never stopped."

Ethan rubs his hands on his trousers, alarmed by how sweaty his palms have become. "It's hard to comprehend a child coping with that."

"It's not like I had a choice!"

"I suppose not."

"A few years ago my mum bribed me into going to a support group," she says. "I went once but all they could talk about was coming to terms with the diagnosis. Thing is, I don't want to come to terms with it, I want to get rid of it."

"And that's brought you here."

She nods. "There's more point to this than a support group, right?"

"I would say so." Ethan gives a nervous smile. "But thank you for sharing. It's been helpful to know I'm not alone in some of the things I've been feeling."

"I'm not your therapist, Ethan."

"No. But, on the off chance you ever feel the urge to talk further with someone in a comparable position, I would like to offer you my phone number."

Rosie smiles wanly. "You say it like it's a treasured possession."

"Oh, lowly phone number," Ethan jokes. "The noblest of gifts!"

"Well it's better than that hot chocolate!"

Ethan attempts a chuckle but it sticks in his throat. He can feel his heart hammering in his chest. He's spoken about having Huntington's a few times; to Cal, of course, to Lily, to Doctor Nowak and the team of nurses. Yet none of those conversations had felt so _real_ as listening to Rosie's insight. And even though her honesty had made him tremble, it was preferable to feeling obliged to pretend everything was okay.

"I'd, um," he says. "I'd like to talk again."

Ethan watches closely to see how Rosie reacts. For a moment she remains frozen with the same earnest expression she's had since first mentioning her dad, but then her face seems to morph. It's remarkable, he thinks, how quickly her features soften and how there's suddenly no trace of the worry that has been etched across her face throughout their conversation. It's as if there's a different girl sat next to him but he doesn't understand why.

She tucks a loose stand of her behind her ear. "I'll take your number," she says, and her voice has changed too, grown richer and deeper in tone, "but I can't promise my intentions are as honourable as yours."


End file.
